Show Me the Way to the Next Whiskey Bar
by Sister Cuervo
Summary: Things to do in LA when you're Undead. Gunn & Spike on the town.
1. Whiskey Bar

Show Me the Way to the Next Whiskey Bar  
  
Summary: Two guys out for Friday night fun / Humor  
Pairing: Spike&Gunn friendship Spoilers: none that I know of  
Disclaimers: Everything belongs to someone else, not me, well ME, Joss, etc.  
Dedicated to: The Sparklies with big Thanks to Travelogue for the info on Angel's cars  
Title from: The Doors, baby! 

* * *

One  
  
Yo, Spike man! You ready?'  
  
Gunn heard a growl from somewhere in the vicinity of Angel's executive washroom and took that for a yes. Gunn straightened his red silk tie and sauntered inside the empty office. He wondered where Angel had gotten himself off to. Probably taken one of the cars out for a spin, chasing down some evil, no doubt. Charles didn't waste too much time worrying about the Big Man. He could take care of himself. _Tonight, _Gunn thought to himself,_ I'm taking the night off from evil fighting and have myself some fun.  
  
_ You're not wearing that duster thing are you, man?  
  
What? I'll have you know the ladies like the bad boy look.  
  
Yeah, if you're into the throwback. Come on, get with the 21st century. We're going to the Skybar. I'll loan you a tie.  
  
Sod a tie. Spike pronounced with a dismissive wave of his hand, Why'd ya want to hang about in those nancy-boy places for? Thought you and me would see a bit of the high life, hit the Whiskey.  
  
The Whiskey? I can tell you're old, man. That's so played out. We can roll over to Moomba then the Cat Club and...   
  
Cat Club?  
  
It's just a name. No real cats.  
  
Spike snorted, That's what they like you to think.  
  
I thought you wanted to hang, man. Do the single guy thing.  
  
Spike's brows lowered as he stared in disbelief at Charles. So you thought what? That I'm some kind of... He gave Gunn a pointed glace, taking in the perfectly taiilored suit and smooth, manicured hands.  
  
What? No. And can I say that was not what I meant. At all. I figured we could hear some of the new bands, maybe scope out the honeys.  
  
Spike smirked at his companion's discomfiture, but was complemented just the same. Angelus was going to hate this, especially after he read the message Spike had scrawled in hair gel on the video-mirror in the bathroom. He snickered just thinking about that one.  
Okay Charlie, he grinned again, slinging an arm around Gunn's shoulder, Let's go. I've still got the keys to the Viper.  
  
tbc  
  



	2. One Bourbon

Two--One Bourbon, One Scotch & One Beer  
  
  
The lawyer and the vampire roared through the streets of Las Angeles. Gunn loved the raw speed of the vehicle and the throaty purr of the big engine. Spike loved the satellite radio. He had the volume cranked up to ear-shattering levels.  
That Ludacris. I like him, y'know, Spike howled over the music, Chicken and beer. Brilliant, that.  
You would, muttered Charles.  
  
It was after two a.m. when the Viper rumbled down an alley and came to a stop in a sand-covered parking area behind a club labeled   
  
Uh, Spike. I don't know if...   
  
Be cool, Charlie. You dragged me all over Hollywood. Now it's my turn to pick the bar.  
  
Yeah, I know, but...  
  
Don't worry, you're with me. Just be cool.  
  
Spike swirled the duster and sauntered through the back screen door into the bar. A dirty faced demon that smelled like diesel fuel was on one side of the bar. On the other, a pair of willowy green females of some species looked over the new arrivals. Gunn squeezed in between Spike and the females. The ladies smiled flirtatiously at Gunn, showing a mouthful of sharply pointed teeth. Two large drinks appeared in front of them and Spike grabbed a tall glass in his left hand and passed the other to Gunn.  
  
Bottoms up, Chuck.  
  
Spike downed his in one gulp, but Gunn was more cautious. He took a tiny sip. It tasted like two hundred proof seal blubber with a side order of gasoline. Blagh! That's disgusting!  
  
Hey, mate, that's Dargathain Brandy.  
  
It's gross! How can you drink this shit? The female demons giggled and batted long black eyelashes at the two men. Diesel Fumes snarled at him and gargled something.  
  
What'd he say? Gunn whispered in an aside to Spike.  
  
You don't want to know.  
  
Gunn took a deep breath and choked down the remainder of the gag-worthy brew. It stayed down and he began to feel a bit dazed, but better. The demon girls were looking better, too. Gunn grinned a crooked little grin, and tilted his head to Spike.  
Those chicks are checkin' you out, man.   
  
Who? That lot? He quirked an ironic eyebrow at the green haired vixens, I think they're more your speed.  
  
Charles grinned and puffed out his chest. Yeah, he thought, I got it. That blonde at the Viper Room was givin' you the eye, though.  
  
Pfft. I've gone off blondes for a bit.  
  
Oh, ya mean Harmony. He thought about that and blinked, Yeah, I can see your point about that.  
  
How about you, Charlie? Got a girl?  
  
Used to, but now... They both considered their sad, sad lot in life. Bereft of honeys, sitting in a seedy bar and wide grins stretched across their faces. We should watch some sports. Suppose they'd turn on the Lakers game?'  
  
Spike pooh-poohed that idea and gave Gunn a sneaky little sideways smile, We should play poker. Didja bring any kittens?  
  
Nope. Fresh out.   
  
Spike pretended to think for a moment. Quick game of eight ball.  
  
Are kittens involved?  
  
Course not.  
  
Spike led the way to the depths of the pool room, motioning for Diesel to bring two more Dargathain brandies.  
  
I call break, Charles set up and took the shot, choosing solids. Spike just smiled. Gunn took the first two, but scratched.  
  
Ah, time for the penalty.  
  
Penalty? You didn't say anything...  
  
Have a drink.  
  
Gunn was okay with that and tossed down the brandy. It was okay, once you got past the smell and well, the taste. While Gunn blinked the tears out of his eyes from the fumes, Spike ran the table with a smirk.  
  
Okay, now it's story time. Pay up. Spike leaned back on his heels and perched on a rickety wooden stool. I want a good story about the Big Man. Gotta be true, too.  
  
Charles blinked. His glass was full. Again.   
  
Uh, Angel, huh? Well, let's see. There was this one time, back a couple a years ago. He was being all Mr. I'm-the-Champion-of-All and saved Wes and me from this demon..... Spike's eyes glazed over as Charles continued the full fascinating story of Dear Old Peaches. Not the kind of story he'd been hoping for.  
  
Uhmhumm, Spike mused, Ready for another go?  
  
They lined up the shots and this time, Gunn was the victor. Spike chugged the drink and began his story. It involved a band in New York and a traveling Romanian circus.  
  
Wait. Wait! I want hear about the old days. Way old. Charles demanded.  
  
What, you mean my school days?  
  
Yep. Pay up or shut up. Gunn was getting into the groove now.  
  
Okay, yeah. There was this lot of blokes--Lord Peter WhataPonce and The Rt. Hon. Peter Quitealot..  
  
Ain't no way that's their names!  
  
Spike rolled his eyes, No. Now can I continue with the bloody story?   
  
Without waiting, he blithered onward, Buggery bastids, the lot of them. Made my life a living hell. Older'n'me. Made damn sure I got the floggin' when they... er... anyroad, they got their payback. I showed them who was the Big Bad. He smirked and belched loudly. Gunn grimaced, whether from the lack of manners or the story.  
  
That wasn't what I had in mind, Mr. Potter. I mean, what was school really like, back in the day?  
  
Floggin's, caning, just like you see in the movies. No girls, a'course. Might a kept us from our studies. Ha! I was the best Latin scholar at Cambridge. Took Firsts in Latin and Greek. Got a medal. Bloody poetry, though. I shoulda let that alone.   
  
Spike was about to lapse into maudlin reminisce, so Gunn wisely set up the next shot. They were evenly matched by this point. Spike rolled his tight shoulders and glared over at the barkeep. Oi, Bring us over the special. I'm feelin' a bit peckish.  
  
What's the special?  
  
Seafood, I magine. Usually right tasty.  
  
This from a vampire.  
  
` Have you know I've got very refined taste. Gunn sniffed at that.  
  
The special turned out to be a thick white porcelain bowl with a lid that bumped and wiggled as though something inside was straining to get out. Gunn reared back in the booth and eyed the bowl.  
  
I'll tell ya right now, I'm not eaten' anything that's still wigglin', cause dude, that's just freaky.  
  
Where's your spirit of adventure? Spike's dimples twitchedin schoolboyish glee and a devish twinkle lit his blue eyes.  
  
Left it at home, man.  
  
Spike lifted the lid and a delicious puff of steamy air drifted out, accompanied by something little that rattled and jumped. Charles looked closer. Was that a tentacle? Woah, man. Those things are alive! The thing had a dozen tentacles and a hard shell topped with four waving antenae, like some kind of mutant shrimp.  
  
So're oysters.  
  
Yeah, but oysters don't have....   
He made wiggling motions with his fingers. That shit's just creepy.'  
  
Okay, more for me. Spike poked a silver instrument into the bowl and deftly plucked out a wriggling thing. He popped it into his mouth and crunched with obvious glee. Gunn watched him chew and swallow the thing. His stomach rumbled.  
  
Think of them as sushi. Quite a delicacy.  
  
Gunn owlishly watched the vampire snatch another wiggler out of the pile and devour it. Arright, I can do this, he thought grabbing up the other implement. It looked a little like a chopstick, with a gripping claw on the end. He twisted it around and made a stab into the middle of the pile. Spike grinned as Charles raised his prize triumphantly, then chortled when the creature escaped onto the table, scuttling behind a greasy plastic coated menu.  
  
Quick! It's gettin' away!  
  
No way, man. I'm Charles the Mighty... he struck at the crustacean with the chopstick and missed. It skittered between the bottle of Tiger Sauce and a murky bottle of something brown. I wield the mighty power...of... he stabbed again, the spork! Ha! Take that, creepy-crawly!   
  
Charles chomped down on his prize, crunching the hard shell.   
  
Spike smirked and leaned back in the seat. Told ya.  
  
That is the best thing I ever had in my mouth!   
  
Another round for me and my buddy here. Spike called.  
  
tbc  
Title is from George Thorogood & the Destroyers


	3. Liquor

Three---Liquor, Beer & Wine  
  
Monday Morning, Wolfram and Hart  
  
  
So how was your night out with Spike, Charles?  
  
Went okay. He's not so bad, y'know, for a bloodsucking creature of the night.  
  
Wesley looked quizzical and turned back to his monitor,Where'd you go?  
  
Oh, you know, Hollywood hangouts, checked out some celeb spots.  
  
I'm amazed. I would have thought Spike would be more the demon bar, rough crowd type of guy.  
  
Charles chuckled ruefully. Well, yeah, you know we always end up in some fonky-ass place, no matter what. It was over in Santa Monica. The Dive In Bar.  
  
Wesley looked over the monitor, eyebrow quirked in amazement, The Dive In?  
  
Yeah. Kinda seedy lookin', but I'm telling you, the food was amazing. Must be cause it's fresh caught.  
  
Wesley pronounced it slowly, as though it were explosive. What kind of seafood?  
  
There was this brandy, too. Denarbain...or Dargathian, yeah. We had these big bowls of wigglers, too. Charles continued, relaxing back into a plush leather chair.  
  
Wesley shook his head in disbelief, Wigglers? You ate...  
  
The bartender called them something else. Uhm, I think it was Nuclease something. Best thing I ever ate in my life and that includes my mama's cooking.  
  
Little wiggly things,about three centimeters across, tentacles?  
  
Yeah, that's right. You had   
  
Wes suppressed his gag reflex and shivered. That...that wiggler was a Nuckalavee F'aushura.   
  
Tasty, too.  
  
They're...they're sort of a ..a louse. Found among the folds of the..organs of the female Dargathain Shura. Wesley turned the monitor screen around to show Charles the picture.  
  
Chales thought it through carefully and his mouth twisted in an evil grin. I am so gonna get my payback. Oh yeah, Blondie-Bear is goin' down! Crabs! He got me to eat crabs!  
  
  
end  
Title from The Reverend Horton Heat. 


End file.
